


Dean Winchester Loves Christmas, Pass It On

by C_Diva (thecollective)



Series: Second Chances!Verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boys Kissing, Cas is a holiday elf, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Cute Dean, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, French Kissing, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, bee keeper!cas, second chances!verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 11:49:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2731367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecollective/pseuds/C_Diva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean refuses to admit he loves Christmas. </p><p>Instead, he pulls at the tight wool collar around his neck and gripes that it’s all Cas’ fault he can’t find a damn flannel to keep him warm in the cold of a Kansas winter and is forced to put three very ugly Christmas sweaters in his December outfit rotation.</p><p>A story in which Dean finds a bit of Christmas spirit.</p><p>After the events of "Second Chances".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean Winchester Loves Christmas, Pass It On

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MechanicalRain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechanicalRain/gifts).



> This story was written for the 2014 Keysmash blog gift exchange. I hope it's fluffy enough for ya, MechanicalRain :) 
> 
> This story is un-beta'd. All mistakes are mine.

Dean refuses to admit he loves Christmas. Instead, he pulls at the tight wool collar around his neck and gripes that it’s all Cas’ fault he can’t find a damn flannel to keep him warm in the cold of a Kansas winter and is forced to put three very ugly Christmas sweaters in his December outfit rotation. It’s also Cas’ fault they are currently dragging a seven-foot Noble fir into the bunker library, bags of baubles and tinsel and colorful lights piled in the corner, ready to be strung up around the bunker. It all starts when Cas spies a Home Depot on their way back from a supply run. Dean admits to Cas that he can’t remember the last time he had a real tree, although he can, because it was a sparse, tiny thing, with air freshener decorations Sam bought at the gas station the Christmas before he went to Hell and it’s depressing to think about. Oh a whim, he pulls Baby into the lot and tells Cas he’s gonna need help getting the biggest tree they have strapped to the top of the Impala. Cas practically leaps out of the car, even before Dean has her in park, like a kid on, well, Christmas. He looks incredibly goofy in a dark green knit cap that Jody made for him, complete with snowy white pom pom. Dean figures there’s no way he could love the little dork any more, but realizes he’s wrong when he spies Cas’ eyes glistening as he notices the angel tree toppers sold at the register. They pick the only tree they can find taller than Sam and have it flocked with snowy white flakes, at Cas’ insistence. Dean then ropes the tree precariously to the top of Baby and drives home listening to the local station playing holiday music, smiling softly to himself when he hears Cas humming along to “White Christmas” by Otis Redding.

“I’m glad you got a tree,” Sam says behind a hot cup of cocoa that Dean happens to have all the ingredients for in the cupboard and makes them that night. “A real Christmas will be nice.” Dean rolls his eyes, but the Winchester brothers smile at each other anyway, not unaware that this is their first Christmas at the bunker, in a place they tentatively call home. It feels special, electric almost, as the town around them begins to bustle toward the upcoming holiday. The Winchester household bustles right along with the small town of Lebanon, until the storekeepers begin to call them by name and there are at least a dozen presents under the tree for Sam, Dean and Cas.

Dean won’t even admit he’s enjoying the holiday when he cranks up Elmo & Patsy’s “Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer” and starts baking first thing on the morning of December 23rd. He places all the ingredients out on the kitchen counter, flips the recipe book open to his tagged pages, “Kiss the Cook” apron protecting his favorite henley from flour, cinnamon and the powdered sugar flying around the room, and bakes 3 pies and 42 cookies in the course of 14 hours. Cas sits at the table most of the day, reading a book or working on a crossword puzzle, humming in satisfaction every time Dean offers him a fresh baked good to sample or pie filling to stir. Sam even gets roped into peeling Granny Smith’s for Mary Winchester’s apple pie recipe. It’s one of the only recipes of their mother’s that Dean makes, and he does it by heart--has for years.

“Did mom’s really taste like this, ya think, Dean?” Sam asks around a mouthful of warm, fresh-from-the-oven pie.

“Mmhmm,” Dean answers, face stuffed full of apple deliciousness. Cas just huffs a quiet laugh at the brothers and sips his cider. “Pretty sure,” Dean adds as he looks up from his plate at his brother. “She used to stand around the kitchen for hours, baking Christmas cookies and pies for the neighbors.”

“Kinda like you.”

At that, Dean smiles, wide and open, pleased at the comparison.

“Yeah, kinda like me, Sammy.”

On Christmas Eve, the three of them Skype with Charlie in Oz (not even Sam could figure out how she worked that out), call Jody and Alex and then, finally gather together to open presents after dinner. Cas learns how to make eggnog and finds that Dean absolutely love the spiced drink. Between the three of them, the first batch goes fairly quickly. Dean refills his favorite Grumpy Cat mug with Cas’ concoction at least three times until, finally, he grabs Cas and kisses him rough under the mistletoe. Cas moans soft and low when he feels Dean’s hand tangle in his hair, thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of his neck. They stand there for a while, leaning against the library wall, arms wrapped around each other, bodies pressed together until Sam comes around the corner and bumps into them. He immediately turns beet red and stammers an apology that causes Dean to laugh and punch Sam, the romantic spell once again broken by the sasquatch he calls a brother.

When it’s time to open the presents, Cas is appointed “holiday elf”, which basically means he gets to wear a Santa hat and pass out the Christmas presents in an orderly fashion. Castiel takes his job very seriously, which is why he swats at Dean, who comes up beside him to poke at the presents.

“Dean, stop. You can’t just grab a gift simply because you know it has your name on it. You’ve got to wait your turn,” Cas tells him, mock serious, eyes twinkling. Dean grumbles an apology but doesn’t put down the box wrapped in bright red paper.

“Yeah, Dean, put it back!”

“Sam, it’s Christmas. Be nice to your brother or you’ll get skipped.”

“Ha! You see? The angel’s on my side, Sammy, so you better watch out...you better not cry…” Dean starts to sing, pleasantly warm from the roaring fire and a mug full of sweet eggnog.

Sam rolls his eyes and laughs. “Oh god, he’s singing, see what you did, Cas?”

Castiel doesn’t answer, just snickers and sits back to watch as Dean gives Sam his most drunken puppy dog eyes.

“Oh just open the damn box, you big nerd,” Sam smirks. “It’s from me,” he admits, as Dean tears into the package to find Game of Thrones, all four seasons. “The special edition,” Sam adds, puffing up his chest in pride. Dean, of course, loves it. He makes a noise that could only be called a squeal of delight and then clears his throat.

“Oh, yeah. I mean, thanks, I love it. We are definitely starting a marathon as soon as you wash the dishes.”

“Oh come on, it’s Christmas,” Sam whines. “I’ll do ‘em in the morning.”

“You’re gonna stink up my kitchen with your laziness, Sam. You get to washin’ so we can start over from season one,” he pauses. Looks at Cas. “There’s only two more under the tree anyway, and they’re both for Cas so…” he trails off and runs a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam says, standing up. “I get it.” He shuffles off to the kitchen, wearing the new reindeer pajama pants Cas got him, complete with matching Rudolph sweater and blinking nose. When Dean can hear his brother tossing around silverware, he grabs a medium-sized box from under the tree and turns to Cas.

“This is for you.”

Cas frowns, tilting his head slightly. “I’m the elf, Dean. You’re supposed to let me get the gifts.”

“Cas,” Dean groans, scooting across the floor until their knees are touching. “Let me give this to you, please.”

Castiel sighs, the edges of his mouth tugging into a smile smile. “I just want it to be known that I am not shirking my duties.”

“Yes, Cas, you’re the best holiday elf that ever was or will be, okay? Now, can you please just open the damn box?”

Cas rips the red and green plaid wrapping paper but not before turning to his boyfriend to tease, “Plaid? Really, Dean?”

“What? I’m a creature of habit.”

When Cas begins to dig into the package, his frown returns. “What is this?” He turns it over in his hands. “A hat?”

“There’s more.”

Cas starts to pull out a pair of gloves, a long wooden handled brush, a a stainless steel container with a funnel on top, some sort of scraping tool. “What is all this?” He asks, looking up at Dean, who is standing next to a wooden box with a red bow on top.

“Bees.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Bees. I got you bees.”

“Dean, these aren’t…”

“It’s a beekeeper starter kit, Cas. So you can have bees. I thought you’d, I mean...I thought…” Dean trails off and looks down at his hands. “It was dumb.”

Realization begins to wash over Castiel’s face and he leaps up, grabs Dean’s face and kisses him. Dean melts into the kiss, arms snaking around Cas’ waist and pulling him close.

“So you like it then?”

“Yes!” Cas answers, breathless. “I didn’t know what it all was. I thought you had given me gardening tools,” he admits.

Dean laughs and maneuvers Cas’ shoulders until they are both facing the small wooden structure.

“I made it.”

Castiel immediately stills, eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. “You what?”

Dean shuffles his feet, a faint blush rising from underneath his wool Christmas sweater.  “I made it. In the bunker’s woodshop.” Castiel looks at the hand-stained wood, three drawers with eight frames each. The box sits atop a cedar stand with a copper roof. It is meticulous and beautiful craftsmanship that took Dean almost four months to finish.

“The supplies I got online. Sam helped me find a pretty credible website with beginning beekeeper equipment and where we can get actual bees once the ground thaws, come spring. I know you said you wanted bees and, well, I thought we could have them...” he falters, clears his throat. “Together.”

“Oh Dean.” Cas pulls him close and they are kissing again, heads tilted inward, lips warm and moist. They do not pull apart until they hear Sam clearing his throat from the doorway.

“So I take it he likes the bee stuff, then?”

Dean groans. “You have the worst timing, Sammy.”

“Love you too, big brother. I thought we were watching Game of Thrones. Or do I need to put on a pair of headphones and go to my room for the rest of the night?”

Dean looks at Cas and wiggles his eyebrows. Cas rolls his eyes and Dean chuckles. “Looks like movie night’s back on.”

Sam grins and flops down on the couch, moving to one side so Dean and Cas can snuggle under their blanket, drink egg nog out of matching Grumpy Cat mugs and be incredibly gross and adorable.

“Not a bad Christmas, huh guys?” Sam says as the credits begin to roll.

“Not bad at all, Sammy. Not bad at all.”

 

**THE END**

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment or kudos if you liked the work. 
> 
> Meet me over on [Twitter](http://twitter.com/collectivadiva) or on [Tumblr](http://whothehellisdiva.tumblr.com) for more of the same.


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